


In the clouds

by thewallflower07



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, Gryffindor John, Hurt!Sherlock, John Loves Sherlock, M/M, Murder, Potter!Lock, Quidditch, Ravenclaw Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, Slytherin Mycroft, They are young so they finally manage to talk to each other, protective!John, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 04:31:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13403511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewallflower07/pseuds/thewallflower07
Summary: It was the seventh Quidditch game between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor in cold winter. Someone has died and Moriarty is building his web. Sherlock and John are best friends while simultaneously thinking about their romantic feelings to each other. Life in Hogwarts is never easy and they can only survive it together.





	In the clouds

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote another one-shot? Someone hold me. What is happening. I am going to ride on the writing wave as long as I can.

It’s their seventh winter in Hogwarts and it’s somehow also the seventh Griffindor against Ravenclaw game in winter.  
Or as Janine likes to put it: „The teachers know our team is so good that good weather just isn’t a challenge anymore.“ Sherlock often wonders during her motivational speech if all Quidditch captains talk like her. He had to ask John about that.

They had been playing for 2 hours now and the snow wasn’t close to stopping. Their points were almost even, with Gryffindor having a slight advance because John was just that good at scoring. He was the best chaser Hogwarts had right now and Sherlock was supposed to be the best seeker, but at the moment he couldn’t see anything through the falling snow.  
Maybe I should ask for a break and talk to Janine, he thinks. Ending the game would be embarrassing but what else should he do? After all, practicing magic was forbidden during Quidditch.  
Sherlock noticed Gryffindors seeker Sebastian Moran a few feets under him. The seventh-grader was rather huge and bulky for this position but the man was known for his good eye-sight and brutality.

John warned him about Moran yesterday. „I don’t know why the hat sorted him into this house, he really belongs to Slytherin.“ His best friend almost immediately noticed that his statement sounded a tad insulting and apologized. Sherlock’s mother and Mycroft were both in Slytherin, his father was a Hufflepaff. Mycroft was always proud of his house. After school he occupied a „minor position“ in the Ministerium and was very successful.  
Sherlock always stopped his thinking process at that point. He didn’t want to remember the accident during the summer. It was bad enough that the newspapers were still full of the disappeared Moriarty. 

 

Thankfully Sherlock was ripped out of his thinking process when he and Moran simultaneously catched a glimpse of the Golden Snitch over their heads. They both flew upwards as fast as they could, chasing the win into the clouds.  
He was so concentrated that he didn’t even noticed when his broomstick froze. Sherlock only heard Morans panicked scream. He looked back and watched the Gryffindor seeker turning his broom around and falling down again. Irritated he looked for the snitch again, having accidentially lost it, when he noticed them.

About five to ten dementors were flying around him, their greedy mouth open and with slippery arms outstretched, towards him.

They had first practiced the Patronus in third grade and at that time it was one of Sherlocks favourite spells. He mastered it easily. His patronus was a Badger, which disappointed him a bit. He was then hoping for a more creative animal. Sherlock supposed he got his wish.

After John got bitten by a dragon in fourth grade it changed into Johns patronus, a Russian Wolf. Thank god his friend never saw the change, it would have made his romantic feelings for him rather obvious. 

Then, after John started a serious relationship with Mary Morstan, his Patronus changed again, this time into a grey mouse. Fortunately John soon broke the the relationship of after he heard Mary and Sherlock fighting. Sherlock still heard her screamed „Freak!“ weeks after that, but at least his Patronus changed back into the badger. 

And then the accident happened. Since then, Sherlock couldn’t manage a Patronus anymore. The only thing he got out of his wand were a few silvery clouds. No one was surprised. After the Defense against the Dark Arts lesson, his teacher Professor Granger assured him that it was „normal“. Many people had problems with their Patronus after a traumatic event. Sherlock thought he had time for practing. Turns out the universe isn’t so nice.

One of the dementors was now directly in front of him, almost smiling. Sherlock felt like something important was pulled away from him and he suddenly felt empty. Another dementors hands craddled his face and this time he was able to hear the screams.

„I thought this was between you and me.“

„Oh Sherlock, darling, it still is. I just wanted to heat the game up a little, to make it a bit more interesting. That’s why I brought your dearest brother with me to our meeting.“

„This is ridicolus. You can’t win Moriarty. Soon a whole armies of Aurors will be swarming this place.“

„I expect them too, but I will be gone before then.“

„He is right, Sherlock. They will be too late. You must leave.“

„No, I won’t just go.“

„Stop this sentimental nonsense, Sherlock! You were always the weak one. Follow my orders and leave.“

„You can’t insult me all you like, Mycroft. I will stay.“

„This is all rather touching, but I really need to move on with my business.“

„Wait-where is the game in that? I thought you want to see me dance.“

„Ah, love. You see, that was before. I changed my opinion after I witnessed your sweet talk. I think this is way more fun. Say goodbye, Sherlock dear.“

„Sherlock, I am so proud of you.“

„No, please, not him. Please take me. Take me. It’s me you want.“

„Too late.“

„MYCROFT!“

„Avada Kedavra!“

 

Sherlock could feel something choking him. The dementors were still around him but all he could hear was his own scream. The neverending scream. One dementor was now close to his mouth and he had the sudden urge to spit something out.  
No. They won’t take another thing from him. Not his soul. Sherlock forced his hands to let the broom go and he started falling.

 

John learned about Mycrofts murder throught the Daily Prophet. At first, he couldn’t believe it. The older brother always seemed invincible to him. Surely an insanely good wizard, intensely smart and now protected by the government couldn’t just die? Especially not by the hand of a former classmate. John had to listen to a special news report on the radio to know about Sherlocks involvement. Apparently his best friend was with his brother in his last minutes. Moriarty always seemed like a maniac to John during their shared Hogwarts years. He was relieved when the Slytherin was thrown out in their fifth year after killing a Hufflepaff called Carl. Moriarty promised Sherlock unending hell on the day of his expulsion and John promised himself to always protect Sherlock.  
Because that’s who they are.The beautiful genius Sherlock, potion master, destined to solve crimes. Then there is John, dependable, good at fighting people who hurt Sherlock, dream job healer. From day one they were inseparable.  
And that was why John had started packing that day and drove to the Holmes House. He stayed the rest of the summer holidays there. They even shared one bed. At night John hold him through his nightmares. On Mycrofts funeral he hold his hand.  
John didn’t let himself hope though. This was the most difficult time in Sherlocks life and John would give him what he needed and wanted, but he wouldn’t take.

Things seemed to get better when they were back at Hogwarts. Sherlock threw himself into school work, got better grades then ever and trained for Quidditch harder than before. Maybe hardworking was better than doing nothing for Sherlock, and John let him, except when he forced him to sleep and eat. Yes, sometimes Sherlock still grabbled into his bed at night (how did he even knew the password?) but things were fine. Really.

 

The game was going good for Gryffindor. John and Sally both scored some points, but it was very hard because of the rapidly falling snow. He just survived another badger from Janine when he had Sebastian Moran, his seeker, screaming. At first he didn’t process his words. How could there be Dementors at Hogwarts? But the seeker just kept pointing at the sky, gesticulating, and John understood.  
Froze.  
Panicked.  
Because if Moran was up there it had to be because of the Golden Snitch. If the Golden Snitch was there, Sherlock must be there too. Sherlock, who couldn’t manage a Patronus after his brother was murdered. Sherlock, who couldn’t find a happy memory in his magnificent mind palace. Sherlock-

John flew into the sky. The strong wind was fighting against him, nearly throwing him of his broom. It was so cold. A long scream resounded above him in the clouds. His heart racing, he begged his broom to fly faster, to hurry up-

A body was falling towards him. Thankfully he had good reflections and so he managed to somehoe catch him. His breath was gone for a moment when Sherlock crashed into him and he barely to hold himself on the broom. John was flying downwards again, his legs curled around the broom while his one hand was slung around Sherlocks waist and the other was cradling his much too pale face.

On the ground the head mistress Violet and the nurse Mrs Hudson were already waiting for them. The other Quidditch players quickly made a circle around John and his charge. John ignored all of their questions, just scooped Sherlock up and ran with Mrs Hudson in tow back to the castle.

 

 

The first thing Sherlock felt when he woke up was warmth. He was bundled in a thousand blankets, his head was cushioned and his hand was hold by John.

Oh.

John noticed immediately that he was awake and called Mrs Hudson, who fussed over him for a few minutes. Apparently he was hypothermic but luckily avoided a concussion. Thankfully he still had his soul. John listened paitently to all her ramblings so that Sherlock could let his mind wander. His head was hurting like mad. There was something else though. He still felt nauseatingly empty. Maybe the dementors really took something from him, something irreplacable. Or maybe Moriarty did.

Finally Mrs Hudson left and Sherlock was alone with John again, who immediately answered one of his burning questions.

„Violet was absolutely furious. She shot some weird stars up to the dementors and they flew away. She is now speaking to the prime minister. They think someone ordered the dementors to come to Hogwarts.“

„How did they get through the protection spells?“

„No one knows.“

Silence. They were both thinking of the same thing, but neither of them dared to say it.  
Sherlock coughed.

„Thank you.“

John looked surprised at him.

„For saving me, I mean. You always do.“

„Not always.“

„You are still a healer in training. It’s normal to make mistakes.“

John didn’t laugh about his lame joke.

„I’m sorry.“

„Don’t be. Moriarty took what he wanted. There was no one that could stop him. Not even.“ , he joked up on his words, „Mycroft.“

He forced himself to look at John again. Sherlock was relieved when he didn’t see any pity in these beautiful blue eyes. Suddenly John moved and his lips touched his.

 

Did kisses always feel as amazing as this? Sherlock didn’t have a second experience to draw his conclusion on, but after John Watson kissed him he believed that he didn’t want a second experience. Because nothing could be as wonderful as this.

As sudden as the kiss started, it ended. John looked shocked and even angry at himself.

„I’m so sorry. That was uncalled for. I better go now.“

John was leaving. This was unacceptable. Sherlock practicaly threw himself out of the bed, which forced John to run back and catch him before he hurt himself again.

„Be careful, Sherlock, you are still hurt.“

„Exactly. I am hurt. My brother was killed, someone wants to murder me and I just received my first kiss and now he is running away from me. John Watson, I need you at my side. I need you.“

John slowly sat down again and wrangled his hands. 

„Are you sure about this?“

„I have never been more sure about anything else.“

They smiled at each other.  
John kissed him again and this time the kiss took much longer. The second and third one came right after that. After the seventh one Sherlock stopped counting. John crawled into his bed and they both cuddled, knowing that great danger was ahead, but that they would face it together.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fanfiction. I would love to hear your opinion. Potter!lock and Teen!lock are very dear to me and this was fun to write!


End file.
